strange Saturday

April 7, 2012

Kids for sale at Pezanas market this morning – unnerving really as we were offered bonbons to engage us in the softening up process and, I suppose,  involve the children who milled around with family groups. Poor little kids sat on pedestals which they clearly didn’t enjoy . . .

 . . too many crowds for me, here by the river and, also in the square where the organic stalls are based . .

. . . but maybe I was out of sorts – Pezanas could have been Brighton today with many nationalities,  including me of course, standing out amongst a few natives.  So wandering away from the market areas to find some quietude . . .

and enjoy architectural and decorative elements that stand out, such as this street light.

But it’s all too much in the town and smaller villages like Alignan-du-Vent beckon where Rosa banksiae ‘Lutea’  smothers a railing frontage . . .

 . . . but even villages become too much and the rest of the afternoon is spent stretched out on a bank of coquelicots in a vineyard watching the clouds move over head. Strange day.

There are holes in the sky
Where the rain gets in
But there ever so small
That’s why the rain is thin.  Spike Milligan    There are Holes in the Sky

2 Responses to “strange Saturday”

  1. Elizabeth Says:

    Spike Milligan poem quite splendid.
    He was quite quite mad –but then so many poets are.
    My fantasy is to have a very small farm with duck, goose, donkey, etc etc
    and a very nice little old couple (not me and Robert) to do the dreary parts and I will flit about doing the charming parts.
    Happy Easter

  2. Val Says:

    A fitting poem for a strange day!

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